


Home

by mochiflowers



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Toronto Cricket Skating and Curling Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiflowers/pseuds/mochiflowers
Summary: If you feel love, there is your home.
Relationships: Yuzuru Hanyu/Evgenia Medvedeva
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Home

"What's so bad about retiring?" she asked. "Everyone is freaking out."

He could see her scrolling through her phone as she lay on her bed, reading comments. He'd tried to tell her not to do that. But when did she ever listen to him?

"It's because they think you mean you're leaving now," he said matter-of-factly. 

"I don't want to," she said, turning towards the computer screen. "But I don't want people thinking that my life is going to be over when I do." He could see her better now, and he could tell her eyes were getting dreamier. "There's so many things I can do after I retire, too, you know."

"Like marry me," he said, grinning like a cat. 

"Like become a coach," she said, giving him a _look_. "Like start my own school, like Javi. Give lectures and host seminars. Maybe train a future gold medalist." 

"And when you have a few minutes, maybe you can spare some time for that guy who's in love with you." He didn't attempt to hide the pout on his face. 

She laughed at him.

He leaned forward, adjusting the camera to make sure she could see him well enough. For the full effect, you know.

"Don't you want to show me around Russia? Take me to all those beautiful buildings you're always talking about? Make me eat all that _interesting_ food?" 

She tilted her head, her face wearing a more serious expression. "Are we... going to live in Russia?"

He paused, a butterfly flitting through his stomach. They should have had this conversation ages ago, but up till now they'd been avoiding it. For many reasons. 

"It might be hard to live here. I don't know." 

"We could do both?" 

"Long distance?" He frowned. "I haven't exactly been enjoying this," he said, waggling a finger at his laptop camera. 

"But Japan is your home. Russia is mine." 

"Then let it be someplace in between." 

"What's in between Japan and Russia?" she giggled.

"A place we both call home," he said. 

She stared at him. 

"I might know of a place that will need a couple of coaches in a few years," he smiled. 

She rolled onto her back, closing her eyes. "Could we really? Would that work?"

"Canada as our base, then traveling around with our athletes during the season. Russia for New Year's. Summer shows in Japan," he said. "It could work." 

"It sounds like a dream," she whispered. And then she sat up abruptly. "I'd better not think about it. I'll jinx it. My dreams don't seem to be working out so well right now." 

"This one I think we can make happen, if we both want to," he said, shaking his head. 

She lay down again, on her stomach, facing the screen. "Do you want to?" 

This time he was the one staring at her. "Yeah. I want to." 

"Then you dream about it. You always make your dreams come true," she smirked. 

"Then tonight I'm going to dream I can be with you," he said softly.

"Not happening unless you've added teleportation to your planned program content," she teased. 

"I mean forever," he said. 

She turned on her side, looking at him--well, at the screen--with those eyes he missed so much. 

"Please dream that, Yuzu."

\--- 

He woke with a start, sitting straight up. His head was foggy, his body sore. Vague particles of a memory drifted through his mind. Wasn't he supposed to be in his room? He'd just been talking to her online, and--

But this was the Cricket Club. That was the sound of the zamboni. And this was a very uncomfortable makeshift bed, two chairs pushed together in the darkest corner of the dressing room. 

He pushed aside the chairs, standing up. That dream he'd been having. It'd seemed so real. But it had only been a dream, right? He wasn't in Japan. He was back in Canada, alone. _She_ had stayed in Russia, after all, unable to leave. For many reasons. And all those other dreams. Well, they were just dreams.

He shook his head, looking down at his boots. He couldn't remember exactly what, but he must have been working on _something_ today. Why else would his legs feel so tired and his brain hurt so much? 

He pushed through the door, looking out at the rink. Sunlight spilled through the triangular grid of windows at the far end of the space, gleaming over the slick surface of the freshly smoothed ice. He watched as waiting skaters stepped out, one by one, onto the rink. In moments the ice was covered in swirls and curves, and the air was filled with the sounds of the blades that carved them. There was one very real thing about that dream. How Canada--how the Cricket Club--always felt like home.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He froze, heart thumping wildly. That voice. 

"You're supposed to be lying down!"

He blinked twice, turning towards the sound. And there she was, gliding across the ice towards him, brown curls floating behind her, catching the sun's rays, making her look like an angel. A dream. 

A dream who was getting closer and closer by the second. 

"Did you lose your hearing when you hit your head, too?" She stepped off the ice, bending down to slip on her guards. And then that sunlight glinted off something else.

He sprang forward, grabbing her hand and then gawking down at his own. "We're married."

She squinted at him. "I think I'd better call the doctor after all. You know, we have them on our staff for our athletes. Not for us. If you would just stop training quints..."

"I hit my head," he suddenly said, a hot rush pouring over him. Now he remembered. 

"Not very hard," she said. "You landed on your butt first. Thank goodness for that padding," she teased, reaching around and tapping said padding, before glancing around to make sure no one had seen. 

His cheeks burned. "I... had a weird dream. We weren't together yet. Or, we were, but--"

"But we didn't have three kids yet?" 

"We have THREE KIDS?"

"I'm kidding," she smirked. "Just wanted to make sure you remembered."

He remembered. How could he forget--

And just in case he had, there she was, gliding across the ice towards him, brown curls catching the sunlight and glinting off the golden blades of her tiny skates. 

"Daddy, Daddy, look what I can do!" she yelled, spinning in circles, faster and faster until she fell down with a splat, bursting into giggles. 

"She gets that from you."

"Falling? Or looking adorable?"

"Both." Zhenya grinned, turning towards the door. "We'd better go home."

He caught her, spinning her around in his arms to face him. He took her chin, lifting it up to make her look at him, and then he kissed her, in a way that should have made him worried that people might see. And then he let her go, his fingers brushing the softness of her cheek. 

"We're already home."

_"Home is not a house, not a country. Home is where you feel loved, and where you find your love, no matter where. If you feel love, there is your home."_

_\-- Evgenia Medvedeva, 1/20/21_

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Zhenya's beautiful thoughts today. 
> 
> (please note Yuzu did not actually hit his head that hard in my fictional fiction, or else we would be sending him to concussion protocol lol)


End file.
